


Chance Encounters

by RainbowVigilante



Category: Leverage, White Collar
Genre: 5 Times, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowVigilante/pseuds/RainbowVigilante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(a.k.a. 5 Times Neal Caffrey met a Member of the Leverage Team + 1 Time Neal and Peter met Everyone)</p><p>Neal Caffrey meets the Leverage team, one at a time.</p><p>[I will finish this eventually, but the file containing everything I've written for the final chapter is on my old computer.  For now, this story is on hiatus.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parker

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing this because the idea popped into my head, and so I'm basically not editing anything. Please be gentle (but point out if I made any grievous errors involving canon or grammar).

“Hey,” Parker said, nodding at the ruffled looking man beside her. “How’s it going?”

“Are you—” The man tried to move his arm, but couldn’t. “You do realize we’re trapped in an air vent?” And they were. Security was milling around outside, looking for an intruder. It would be at least an hour before they cleared the floor.

Parker shrugged; for all that she could in such close quarters. “For like, seventy-four minutes. Does that really count as trapped?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t make a habit of crawling through air vents,” said the man. He certainly didn’t give off that impression; poor guy was sweating like he just came from the gym. “I take it you do?”

“Yeah.” Parker grinned nice and wide. “You know what’s really fun? Elevator shafts,” she said gleefully. “You ever been in an elevator shaft, what’s-your-name?”

“Neal Caffrey,” the man offered. “My name is Neal Caffrey. And no, I have never been in an elevator shaft.”

“Neal Caffrey? Really?” asked Parker. “Huh.” She took a proper look at him. There wasn’t much light in the vent, but his hair, and his suit… If this guy wasn’t Neal Caffrey, he was a damn good imitation. “I’m a fan of your work,” she said.

Neal flashed Parker a charming smile. It was shockingly white, even in the dark. “Thank you,” he replied. “I don’t believe I caught your name, Miss…?”

“Parker.” The guards should have finished checking the vault by now. “Sorry, gotta dash,” she said, sliding past Neal with practiced ease. “There’s a diamond begging to be stolen in the basement. Good luck waiting on the gallery floor, sucka!”

“Ho-hold on!” Neal called after her. Too late. Parker was already in the main shaft. “You’re—THE Parker?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be posting one chapter a day, and there are six chapters. So don't be sad that's it's incomplete! Tomorrow, Neal meets Hardison!


	2. Hardison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, not a lot of editing was done. Be kind.

Hardison really didn’t want to break into the office of a Fortune 500 C.E.O., but honestly, what else was a hacker supposed to do? The computer Hardison needed to get into worked off a closed network. Breaking in was the only way to get at it. Still, it was a little too easy. An unlocked and powered up elevator, absent guards, and quickly disabled alarms could almost make a man believe in destiny.

Once he got to the top floor, the elevator doors opened to reveal the most unnecessarily lavish office Hardison had ever seen. This guy certainly wasn’t going to miss a few million dollars, was he? Hardison shook his head as he passed what looked like a crystal end table. Ridiculous—and definitely not why he was here. The C.E.O.’s desk was located in the northeast corner. When Hardison got there, he found he wasn’t alone.

“Good evening,” said the well-dressed man standing by the window.

“Uh, hey,” Hardison said, glancing from the man to his target. “I… have an appointment?”

The man turned around. Damn, was this guy was runway ready. “You have an appointment?”

“Yeah, man.” Hardison tugged at his collar a bit. “I got a, I got an appointment. You know, I thought it was weird—it was a little weird—that the secretary scheduled it so late?” he said. Was this what people meant when they described someone as ‘floundering’? “But I mean, I, uh, I get it, man. Burn that midnight oil or whatever. Where does that expression come from, anyhow—”

“I’m not Carl Bradshaw,” the man said, interrupting him. “Now, I suggest we both go about our business, and forget we saw each other at the end of the night.” He stepped toward Hardison, smile spreading across his face and hand outstretched. “Deal?”

“Heh.” Hardison tried to return the smile. It was a little difficult, what with his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. He was not cut out for this breaking and entering shit. “Deal,” he agreed, shaking the man’s hand. “Name’s Hardison, long as you’re going to forget it.”

“Nick Halden,” the man replied. “Now, have fun with Bradshaw’s offshore holdings. I have something specific in mind.”

“Sure, man.” Hardison didn’t ask how Halden knew what he was after. He watched the man leave, and went over to the desk to set up shop.

“Oh, one thing.” Halden’s head popped back around the corner. “I don’t suppose you saw a Rembrandt on your way in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, Eliot!


	3. Eliot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited it a bit more this time! Go me!

This was the part of the job Eliot hated. Some kid gets in over his head, takes something that he shouldn’t, and Eliot gets sent in to clean up after. Last time, the target tried to run. Eliot broke his leg and left him there. Maybe he got to a hospital, maybe he didn’t; Damian Moreau made it very clear that it wasn’t Eliot’s problem.

Days like this made Eliot want to make it his problem. Honestly, there was no muscle on this guy. He didn’t deserve the full shake down; there was no way he knew who he had crossed. “You stole something that my employer was very attached to,” he told the young man standing across from him. “My job is to get it back. Are you going to make my job difficult? Or are you going to return what you got in the briefcase?”

“Hey.” The man—who Moreau only referred to as “Halden”—put the briefcase down on the ground. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said, raising his hands in the air above him.

“Funny how that works,” Eliot replied, walking over to Halden. He picked up the briefcase and backed away. “So,” he continued, “now the question is, do I leave you with a warning? Or do you think you got the message?”

“I think I’ve been adequately warned,” said Halden. He didn’t seem that scared, for all that he gave the case up easily. “Is it my turn to ask a question now?”

Eliot snorted. The balls on this kid. “You can go ahead and ask,” he said, turning around. “Don’t recommend it.” Eliot started to head for the door.

“The icon’s a fake,” Halden called after him. “Why does your employer want it so badly?”

“I don’t know,” Eliot responded, not bothering to raise his voice. “Why’d you steal it?”

He was already a step out of the room when he heard Halden respond, “Practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, Sophie!


	4. Sophie

The necklace was beautiful. Sapphires and silver twinkled at her from behind protective glass like caged starlight. Tonight, with the help of a good bottle of wine and a very well-fitting dress, Sophie Devereaux would set that light free.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” a voice whispered in her ear. Sophie jumped and turned sharply. Behind her was a man wearing a finely tailored suit and a disarming smile. “Forgive me,” said the man. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I wasn’t paying the rest of the gallery much mind, I’m afraid,” Sophie offered as explanation. Indeed she hadn’t. But was it her lack of attention that allowed him to sneak up on her, or was he a new player? “This piece… captures my imagination.” A bit too thoroughly, it seemed.

“Mine too.” The man’s smile grew a little wider. “In fact,” he said, getting quieter as if preparing to tell Sophie a secret, “I was thinking of stealing it.”

A bubble of silence fell over them, like the other voices in the gallery were suddenly put on mute. Sophie took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. “You know,” she began, “I doubt you’re the only one.”

“Of course not,” the man replied, shaking his head. “But I don’t think I’ll steal it after all. Wouldn’t want to step on your toes.” There was a sparkle in his eye that Sophie recognized. She often saw it in the mirror once she had pulled off a really excellent con. “After all,” he continued, “that necklace pales in comparison to you.”

“What a line!” Sophie said with a laugh. “And so terribly unoriginal.”

“What can I say? I’m a thief; I steal all my best material.” The man held out his hand, which Sophie took daintily. “Neal Caffrey.”

“Sophie Devereaux.” So this was the great Neal Caffrey. “I’ve heard of you,” Sophie told him.

“I’ve heard of you,” Caffrey said in reply.

Sophie studied Caffrey with growing suspicion. “You’ve already swapped it out, haven’t you?” she accused.

“And once again,” said Caffrey, “I ask you to forgive me.” He plucked two champagne glasses from a nearby waiter and passed one to Sophie.

“I might. On one condition,” Sophie stated. “Help me pick out something else to take home?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped posting for a couple days! Sorry!!!! I got caught up with life stuff. Anyway, I'll post the next chapter either tomorrow or Monday. Coming up... Nate!


	5. Nate

“So. Neal Caffrey.”

“That’s me.” Caffrey flashed him a smile. “And you are?”

Nate continued as if Caffrey hadn’t interrupted. “Also known as Nicholas Halden, Steve Tabernacle, and about a half dozen other aliases.”

“Wow,” Caffrey said as he glanced around the corridor. He was probably calculating an escape route as they spoke. “You’re thorough. Probably know more than the agents working my case.”

“Probably,” agreed Nate. “I’m very good at my job.”

“Which is?”

“Insurance.” There it was. Nate could see Caffrey’s mind making connections, figuring out what Nate was after. “I’ve heard excellent things about your work. Gladstone couldn’t give me a name, but I made an educated guess,” Nate explained. While he talked, he kept his stance casual and relaxed his shoulders. It was better if the con man in front of him didn’t see him as a threat.

Nate watched him closely. Caffrey didn’t give away much, but there was a telltale tightening around his eyes. He was definitely the guy. “I’ve never done business with anyone named Gladstone, I’m afraid,” said Caffrey, putting on an apologetic face. “But there are a lot of art consultants on the East Coast. Maybe you have me confused with someone else.”

“Art consultant, right,” Nate said. “That’s your cover story right now. But I was talking about your forgeries.”

“My alleged forgeries,” Caffrey corrected him. He was right, Nate knew. No agency in the world had been able to pin anything on Caffrey. The man had proven to be slippery in the past, and this was actually the first time Nate had managed to catch up to him in person. “I’ve never been charged with anything, Mr….?”

There was no way Nate was giving Neal Caffrey his name. “Let’s skip past that,” he said. “I have security footage of you at the Boston Museum of Art and Antiquities shortly before the showing that included the Dagger of Aqu’abi.” Nate stepped closer and looked Caffrey right in the eye. “That same dagger was later revealed to be a fake.”

Caffrey didn’t look away. He met Nate’s gaze like he was issuing a challenge. “That would have had to be an awfully good fake to fool the entire museum staff for four months.”

“Pretty good.”

“Very good.”

“If you say so.” Nate turned away, sidling down the hall. “Of course, you’ll be a person of interest once I turn over the tape of you meeting with Mr. Gladstone and his dealer,” he called out, voice echoing off the walls. “That Agent Burke seems like the persistent type.”

“Wait.” There it was. Nate stopped. He could hear Caffrey jogging down the corridor until he was once again standing across from Nate. “What keeps the tape off Burke’s desk,” Caffrey asked.

The corner of Nate’s mouth quirked up slightly. It was moments like these that made his job worthwhile. “Give me a name,” he told Caffrey, “and we’ll talk.”

“He’s not the kind of guy you turn in,” Caffrey said. “He’s the kind of guy who shoots you if you forget to call him ‘sir’.”

“All the more reason to give him to me,” replied Nate. “Stop the next kid he hires from getting shot.”

Something flickered in Caffrey’s eyes. “Gutman,” he said. “I don’t have a full name, but everyone knows him as Gutman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaah I posted late again! Anyway, the next chapter will be the last, and it will be a bit longer. I'm definitely not going to be able to post it until after Thursday, unfortunately. Life is hectic at the moment.
> 
> Next time, Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke meet... Leverage.


End file.
